Fly Away
by Farangis
Summary: When Hermione saved Draco from an ambush, he began to question about his path in life. A story about courage, sacrifice, friendship and love. DMHG, HPGW
1. Saved by a Mudblood

This story is set in Hermione and Draco's 7th year. Harry and Hermione are the Head students, while Draco became a death eater over the summer. More will be explained in the story as it develops.

English is not my native language so please bear with me on any spelling or grammer mistakes.

I also do not own Harry Potter. However I do have four Chinese romance novels under my name. If anyone is interested, please go to this link: http:www.books.com.tw/exep/prod/booksfile.php?item=0010235823

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**Chapter One: Saved by a Mudblood**

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Blindfold obscured his vision, strong hands held him down to the ground. A hard knee rammed into his groin sharply.  
  
"_Silencio!_"  
  
The agonized scream died on his lips.  
  
"Not so high and mighty now are you, Malfoy? You fucking death eater!" A voice full of hatred spat. The person grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head back forcefully. A punch to the stomach followed, knocking the wind out of his lungs.  
  
More punches and kicks rained down on his battered body. Vaguely, he was aware of the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. So much pain... Tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. So hard to think...  
  
"Shit, someone's coming!"  
  
"Bugger!" Another vicious kick to the head, and then the abuses abruptly stopped.  
  
"C'mon, we have to go! Before they spot us!"  
  
"But I -"  
  
"C'mon!"  
  
"Alright..." The leader of the bunch finally conceded, but not before throwing a choking hex his way.  
  
It was as if he was suddenly submerged in water. The air to his lungs was abruptly cut off. He couldn't breathe. The loud ringing in his ears almost covered up the retreating footsteps completely. He threshed about, hands clawing in the air, fighting to breathe in vain. Bright colorful spots danced madly in front his blindfolded eyes...  
  
"_Finite Incantatum!_"  
  
With a great gasp, the invisible chokehold on his neck dissipated. He was vaguely aware of a pair of slender arms locked around his shoulders, holding him up as he coughed and sputtered, greedily sucking air back into his deprived lungs.  
  
For a long while he panted and gasped, body shaking in the aftereffects of abuse. Gratefully, he leaned against the support of the warm body in front of him, feeling weaker than a newborn baby.  
  
Nimble fingers lifted the blindfold off his eyes. Wand light made him squint as the person gasped in recognition: "Malfoy?"  
  
He peered up, teary-eyed, meeting the wide, shock-filled brown eyes of the Head Girl.  
  
Gryffindor's Know-it-All Mudblood Queen, Hermione Granger.  
  
"Wha... What happened here? Who did this to you?" Granger asked a little shakily, taking in all of his injuries, something akin to concern flashing in the depth of her eyes.  
  
Suddenly, her eyes widened even more, and then she hastily dropped his arms, pushing him away from her as if burned. Without the support, Draco crashed back to the ground with a thud. He groaned in pain, his head swimming. Faintly, he followed her eyes to his left arm.  
  
There, beneath the torn sleeve, the Dark Mark contrasted eerily against his pale skin.  
  
Draco felt an icy sinking sensation in his stomach. Still panting for breath, he looked up through pain-induced tears, his eyes pleading for...  
  
What? He does not know. What could he expect from an enemy of more than six years?  
  
Granger narrowed her eyes at him, her expression guarded, but strangely serene: "So, you really are a death eater, aren't you, Malfoy?"  
  
He opened his mouth, but no answer came out. She had caught him, red-handed so to speak, and now...  
  
Granger watched him silently for a second, as if debating what to do. Finally, she pressed her lips into a firm thin line, and drew out a dagger from the folds of her robe, its sharp edge glinting in the wand light.  
  
She was going to slit his throat!  
  
Draco's eyes widened in fright: "N... No!" He cried hoarsely, struggling to get away, but couldn't move more than an inch or two due to his injuries. "Please..." His bloodied and split lips trembled as he eyed the sharp dagger in her hand.  
  
Granger's eyes softened marginally. "Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you... Not here and now, at least."  
  
She reached out with her other hand and grabbed a hold of him. Almost gently, she pried his fingers open and placed the hilt of the dagger in his palm, holding it there. And then in a clear voice, she intoned: "_Portus_."  
  
With a flash of blue light, the world around them began to swirl, and within seconds Draco found himself blinking up at the white ceiling of the Hospital Wing.  
  
That dagger... It was the Head Students' emergency port key. He realized with a start. The dizziness from the transport only intensified even though Granger was carefully supporting his head. Black spots appeared on the edge of his vision.  
  
"Granger..." A hoarse whisper escaped from his throat. His breathing became irregular again as he realized he was on the edge of fainting.  
  
"It's okay Malfoy. You... you are safe." Granger tightened her hold on him, and then yelled, "Madam Pomfrey! Please come quick, Malfoy's hurt pretty bad!"  
  
It was the last thing he heard before darkness swallowed him up.

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A/N: Sorry this chapter is rather short. However, I do prefer to update often with shorter chapters, rather than making people wait half a month or so for a longer one. This story is rated PG-13 right now and will likely remain so. I do want to try my hands at a smut, but I think I'll do it as a separate short story and then post it somewhere that allows the NC-17 rating. I mean, if I'm going to give it a try, might as well go all the way, right?

Oh and, someone asked me about my pen name the other day. "Farangis" is the name of a warrior priestess from this Japanese epic war/fantasy novel titled Arislan Senki. Her name is sometimes translated as "Pharagese" as well.


	2. Disturbed Thoughts

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**Chapter Two: Disturbed Thoughts**

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Golden rays of dawn penetrated the thin, semi-transparent curtains of the Hospital Wing, casting light upon the countenance of the pale teenager half- reclining on his bed. However, it did nothing to relieve the troubled expression reflected in his steely gray eyes.  
  
The events of last night were... unsettling, and that was the grand understatement of the fucking century.  
  
He didn't know who his assailants were. He knew it wasn't the wonder brothers, much to his disappointment. Gryffindor had Quidditch practice around that time and no way in hell could their captain have skipped it just to beat the crap out of him. His next best guess was on the Hufflepuffs, some of the idiots from that house have been hell bent on a righteous quest to vanquish evil ever since the fall of their beloved hero, Cedric Diggory.  
  
_Fuck_ that sodding house of justice.  
  
No wait, that would be the Gryffindors.  
  
Well, fuck the lot of them then!  
  
However, thinking of Gryffindor inevitably brought his thoughts back to the Head Girl, his... savior.  
  
The very idea! He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It was utterly ridiculous, to think of the know-it-all mudblood, one third of the bane of his existence as his _savior_ -  
  
Yet the feel of her warm embrace was now etched forever into his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could almost feel those thin arms around his shoulders, holding him up, helping him breathe, lending him strength when he needed it the most.  
  
She ended the spell that would otherwise have taken his life, and then brought him here to heal. Even though she had clearly seen the dark mark on his arm.  
  
Even though he had called her filth and mudblood repeatedly, laughed at her miseries, taunted her when she cried...  
  
Draco buried his face in his hands and groaned. Now he was feeling... unsettled. All of his life, he had been taught to be proud, he was of the purest blood and he was better than the lot of them. He had been outraged when Potter and Granger were named Head Boy and Girl respectively. He had snarled and seethed to his Slytherin peers, calling Dumbledore a senile old fool because he chose a half blood and a mudblood to be the head students of one of the oldest wizarding school. He was making a grand joke out of them all!  
  
But was he really? If Granger was filth, then why was she capable of acts so... noble?  
  
Light footsteps echoing around the empty corridor brought him back to the present. Looking up, he was slightly startled to find the very person occupying his thoughts standing in the doorway.  
  
For a while they simply looked at each other, warm chocolate brown eyes meeting cold, gray ones. And then Draco looked away first.  
  
"What do you want, Mudblood?" He asked harshly, annoyed that he wasn't quite able to meet her eyes. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He felt... petty.  
  
Hermione's eyes hardened. She pressed her lips into a thin line, before finally opening them to speak: "Are you feeling okay, Malfoy?"  
  
"Fine." He mumbled.  
  
"Have you seen any of your attackers?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
She nodded: "Very well then. I have informed Professor Dumbledore of the events last night, of... _everything_ that I've witnessed, and he will be here to speak to you shortly."  
  
Draco closed his eyes briefly. That means she told the old nut about the dark mark, fuck!

Hermione waited a few seconds, and then inclined her head slightly: "Well then, good day, Malfoy."  
  
"Wait." He called after her just when she turned to leave, and slowly, she turned around to face him again.  
  
"What is it, Malfoy?"  
  
"Why did you help me?" After a moment of pause, Draco finally asked the question that has been plaguing his mind ever since he regained conscious, "You know who I am, Granger."  
  
Hermione's eyes darkened: "Yes, I know. But I'm not a murderer. You haven't done anything to me that would justify leaving you there, or worse."  
  
"How very noble of you." Draco drawled before he could stop himself. More than six years of habit was hard to reverse, although this time, strangely, it made him feel lower than dirt,

"I mean..."  
  
Hermione didn't give him a chance to finish whatever he was about to mumble.  
  
"Malfoy, do not think for a second I'm stupid." She cut him off quietly, her heart-shaped face solemn and grave as she stared right into his eyes, "I may have helped you last night, but that doesn't mean I'm _weak_. I've seen what you death eaters are capable of, and I will not hesitate to use all means necessary to defend myself. I know every single one of the hexes done to you last night, and I can do all of them ten times better."  
  
Draco stared back, quite speechless, as Gryffindor's golden lioness narrowed her eyes and extended her claws: "I will protect Harry and Ron and all of my friends with my life. You... You stay away from us, Malfoy!"  
  
Then, before he had a chance to even gather his thoughts together, she was gone in a whirl of robes. It was quite an impressive Snape-like feat really, for one so petite.  
  
Long after she was gone, Draco still sat in the same position, staring down at his arm where the Dark Mark would be, underneath the white sleeve.  
  
Is this really the path he wanted to travel? It wasn't the first time he had asked himself this question, but never before had he really thought about his answer to that. He simply went with the flow, so to speak, and received the mark without so much as a blink, because it was expected. It was what he had to do to fulfill his honor and duty as the Malfoy heir.  
  
But really, where is the honor in mindless slaughtering? What is so noble about striking down, torturing and killing people who he had never before met in his life? Or worse, people like Granger, who had saved him only to have...  
  
An image of him performing the unforgivable on her appeared in his mind and he shuttered at the thought.  
  
Probably because he knew, at the rate things were going, this would turn out to be reality one day.  
  
Or she could end up killing him.  
  
"Ah, Mister Malfoy. Awake I see?"  
  
Deep scowl plastered on his face by way of automatic reaction, Draco looked up to see his second visitor of the day, in the form of a smiling Dumbledore.  
  
"Headmaster." He inclined his head slightly and addressed the old man coolly.  
  
"Poppy just informed me that you are free to go." Dumbledore paused for a second, eyeing the young man thoughtfully, "Shall we go to my office, Mister Malfoy? I believe I have much to discuss with you."  
  
After a moment of silence, Draco slowly nodded: "As you wish, Headmaster."

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No one knew what words were exchanged during the two hours that Draco spent in the Headmaster's office. But when he finally emerged, he was looking uncharacteristically thoughtful, head bowed as he headed toward the dungeons.

The day after Draco's release from the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore made an announcement during breakfast in the Great Hall. Three seventh-year students from Hufflepuff were expelled from the school, for attacking and seriously injuring a fellow student. Dumbledore did not mention the name of the assaulted, and the news was made with much curious murmurs and whispers.

Hermione couldn't help but look toward the Slytherin table when the announcement was made. Her eyes briefly locked with those of Draco Malfoy, before he looked down at his food, breaking the contact first. And then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded his head slightly.

Hermione didn't know what that meant, but she didn't give it much thought either. She was more puzzled by the fact that Draco didn't receive any apparent retribution for the Dark Mark on his arm. But then, she decided to put her faith in Dumbledore and not to question the matter any further.

She did, however, mention it to Harry one night when they were sitting together in the Heads' common room. She omitted the details of how she came to her knowledge, as she was asked by Dumbledore not to tell anyone about what she had witnessed that night. Instead, she attributed it to the rumors flying around.

Harry listened quietly as she told him of her "suspicions." Then, in his characteristic calm and collected manner, he concurred that it was indeed likely for Draco Malfoy to be a Death Eater. They both agreed that they should be even more wary of him and his cronies from there on. And then Ginny came knocking on the portrait hole looking for her boyfriend, putting an end to the conversation.

Weeks passed in a blur. School, preparation for NEWTs, and research for ways to defeat Voldemort occupied most of Hermione's time, and the incident that night with Draco Malfoy began to fade from her mind.

If she wasn't so preoccupied, she would have noticed that Draco hadn't called her Mudblood since then.

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Disclaimer: See firtst chapter

A/N: My mind is kinda empty now, so... Please review?


	3. A Curious Golden Owl

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**Chapter Three: A Curious Golden Owl**

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It was a cold, snowy November day. End-of-term exams were quickly approaching. Holding a steamy mug of hot cocoa in one hand and a book in the other, Hermione immersed herself in the advanced arithmancy theories while waiting for her friends to finish Quidditch practice.  
  
Since both Head Students were from Gryffindor this year, the common room was charmed to take on a scarlet and gold theme as well. Hermione fell in love with the room the moment she stepped into it. It was warm and cozy and reminded her very much of the Gryffindor common room, only it was a bit smaller, a bit more elegant and a lot less noisy. She found it a convenient substitute of the library and was very thankful for the privilege bestowed upon her.  
  
She was also thankful that after much debate, the faculty finally chose Harry to be her counterpart. She was the unanimous choice for Head Girl, as no other female student in her year came close. However, Harry had some tight competitions, namely Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin. Both had grades only slightly lower than Harry, and several faculty members (namely Snape) insisted that it simply wouldn't do to have both Head Students picked from the same house.  
  
Eventually, Dumbledore put an end to the dispute by saying that Head Students should be chosen solely based on merits, not by the house they came from. Therefore much to McGonagoll's delight, Harry was finally chosen as Head Boy along with Hermione as Head Girl.  
  
They proved to be an efficient and harmonious team, having worked alongside one another since their first year at Hogwarts. All in all, this has been a very good year for Hermione, if not for the threats of Voldemort looming over their heads.  
  
A tapping noise on the window disturbed Hermione from her reading. A little startled, she looked up and then quickly opened the window with a flick of her wand. A large golden owl swooped in, accompanied by an icy blast of snowflakes.  
  
Hermione closed the window with another muttered charm and held out her arm. The large male owl landed gracefully and dropped a small package in her lap. He tilted his head, looking at her expectingly.  
  
"Thank you." She smiled and patted his wings softly, dusting off the snowflakes, before opening her package, which was wrapped in a white scarf.  
  
Inside, Hermione found a small box of expensive dark chocolates, with a note attached. Two words were written across the white parchment in a flowing, elegant script:  
  
_Thank you._  
  
The note was unsigned.  
  
Pleasantly surprised but puzzled, Hermione read the note over twice, before turning her gaze to the owl, who stayed by her side and was leisurely smoothing his shiny golden feathers with his beak.  
  
"I suppose you won't be able to tell me who this is from, huh?" Hermione asked softly, scooping him up into her arms for a closer inspection. As she suspected, there was nothing on the owl to identify the owner. Maybe he was one of the school owls?  
  
He was an unusually beautiful animal for sure. His feathers were of a pale, shiny golden color, and he had silvery gray eyes that reminded her of the mist that covered the lake whenever it rained. She ran her hand down his warm body, absently stroking his spine, and he leaned into her touch with a soft, pleased hoot.  
  
"Not in a hurry to leave, hmm?" She chuckled, cradling him more comfortably against her chest, "Mind to keep me company for a while then, little love? I need a break anyway."  
  
As if understanding her words, the large owl rested his head against her chest, mindful not to scratch her jumper with his sharp talons, and obediently allowed her to pat him.  
  
The swinging of the portrait abruptly broke the peace in the room. Harry and Ron appeared at the entrance, walking in while holding a loud conversation. The golden owl's head snapped up and his feathers bristled. He gave a sharp, agitated hoot, flapping his wings.  
  
"Shh... It's okay." Hermione immediately cooed and held him closer, stroking his chin, in an attempt to calm him down.  
  
"Hey Mione, whose owl is this?" Ron asked, sitting down on the sofa next to her. Harry joined them on her other side.  
  
"I don't know. He was tapping on the window and delivered this to me..." Hermione pointed to the box of chocolate and the note.  
  
Harry raised a brow as he read the note: "A secret admirer? Wow, Hermione!"  
  
"Oh please, it's probably from one of those fifth years I tutored last week. Some people know when to show a little gratitude, unlike _some other people_." She gave both of them a pointed look.  
  
"Oh, I show appreciation too." Ron said cheerfully, reaching for the box of chocolate, "In fact, I'm going to bravely risk rotten teeth right now to help you... _OW_!"  
  
The large owl suddenly swung his sharp talons at the unsuspecting redhead, leaving a long, bloody scratch on his arm.  
  
"Ouch, ouch!" Ron yelped in pain, holding his wounded arm, "Why you little..." He reached out, intent on snatching the animal away from Hermione's lap.  
  
"Back off, Ron!" Hermione batted away his hands, cradling the owl against her chest protectively.  
  
"He's dangerous, Hermione. And he's probably diseased too!"  
  
The owl made a piqued noise, glaring at Ron with his silvery eyes, and Harry laughed: "Actually, serves you right for stealing Mione's chocolate, Ron."  
  
He reached out to pat the golden owl, but to his surprise, the owl dodged his hand. He tucked himself under Hermione's arm, from where he glanced up at the boys haughtily. If he were human, the expression in his eyes could be described as utter contempt.  
  
"Seems like he only favors you, Mione." Harry said with slight disappointment in his voice.  
  
"Yup, looks that way." Hermione replied cheerfully, stroking the owl's soft feathers affectionately.  
  
Ron snorted: "Blasted hormone driven bird. In fact, I bet you he's actually some perverted animagus in his late forties. Bald, moldy, ugly and-"  
  
"Oh please Ron.You said the same thing about Crookshanks." Hermione rolled her eyes exasperately, "Just face it, my animals don't like you."  
  
"He's _your_ animal? Since when?"  
  
"Since now." Hermione stood up, "And, if you will excuse me, I want to introduce him to Crookshanks and maybe find something for him to nib on before I let him into the snow again."  
  
Ron stared at her back as she carried the owl up to her room, who was comfortably and obediently nested in her arms.  
  
"Blimy Harry, did you see that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The bloody bird! He was smirking at me!"

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Disclaimer: Please see first chapter

A/N: Work sucks. I want pudding.


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